What If
by LightningsShadow118
Summary: What if Jack and Chase swapped places? CY/JS
1. What If

**AUTHOR'S NOTES — READ THIS FIRST**

This began as a random plotbunny - hence the short first chapter. The main question here is, "What if Jack and Chase swapped places?" Feel free to share ideas on where you think the story will go, should go, ought to go, ect... but if _anyone_ comments, "ZOMGAWD WILL TER BE LAEK CHAK SMEX I TINK DATD BE TEH HAWTNEZZ!!!!!11!!1!!" then by the unholy gods above and below me I will pull out my crowbar and go Gordon Freeman on your Kawaii!Fangirl ass! If there is to be happy-happy-joy-joy yaoi sex, there must not be any begging for it. It will come, but if you rant and beg for it, then I'll make sure it's cut from the end. Just to spite you. So enjoy what you _are_ getting, and hope that no stupid Kawaii!Fangirl f*cks it up for the rest of you. Now, enjoy.

...:...:...:...

In a remote part of China, a broad mansion lay concealed among the towering pine trees. Inside this mansion, which one would expect to be happily and handsomely occupied, there was only one.

A teenager, roughly fifteen, sat slumped in a couch on the slightly chilly basement floor. A video game controller was clutched fiercely tight in his hands as he punched the buttons with blinding speed. He was playing a special edition of Mortal Combat; his favorite game.

He wore a swampy green and black shirt with very baggy black jeans, littered with chains. He himself wore a spiked band on his right wrist.

The green highlights in his midnight-black hair fell over one burning hazel eye, which, with a flick of his neck, flipped back behind his ear.

He jumped just then, thrilled. "Yes!!! High score!!"

The game displayed the score table, which only bore one name; _Chase Young._

Chase sighed, the wind snatched from his sails. He turned off the game, tossed the controller onto the ground, and flopped onto his back. "God, am I ever _bored."_

His pocket began shaking mildly. Chase reached for his cellphone and checked the ID, and rolled his eyes.

He answered. "Welcome to WGAS, 'Who-Gives-A-Shit' radio; you're on the air," he sneered, but without any serious distaste.

"Well, _you're_ certainly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," The girl on the other end returned.

"I'm not exactly in the mood for the cat jokes, Ashley."

"Fair enough, but hear me out Chase; you will give a shit about this."

Chase paused. "... I'm listening..."

"Okay, remember that weird white and blue bow that Mr. Bater found while hiking up in the mountains?"

"Bater..." Chase struggled to remember which teacher he was. "Isn't he World History?"

"Yup, that's him."

"What about it?"

"Well, just a few hours ago, some group of teenagers snuck into the school and stole it!"

"What? Why would anyone go through all that trouble for a old bow? It probably doesn't even shoot arrows anymore."

"That's not the good part. After they broke in, some creep with-- Oh wait! Chase, turn on the TV; they're talking about it now."

A bit reluctant, Chase decided to humor her and flipped to the news channel.

He nearly dropped his phone when he saw the school blown halfway to Hell.

"Holy Christ-- what the fuck happened!!?!?"

"Watch."

_"--just this afternoon. According to eye witnesses, a young man wearing 'rocket boots' appeared on the roof of the school, and planted the explosive responsible for the damage you see here. Then, once the dust cleared, the man rushed inside the school and stole what appeared to be a decorative bow from one of the classrooms."_ The screen flashed to camera footage taken from some watching teenager's camcorder.

Chase examined the thief. The guy couldn't have been over twenty-five and, by the muscles, a fighter. He was also extremely pale - albino, if those red eyes weren't contacts. His hair matched his eyes; fiery red, and short. The guy also wore this strange eyeliner - if that didn't scream 'gay'. His clothing was some kind of Emo combat uniform that brought out the man's already obvious colors even more.

The evil twisted smirk on his face was, even at a distance, so freakin' _evil_ it made Young shudder, but not in fear.

Not taking his eyes off the screen for a minute, Chase hung up his phone. He didn't like that crazy cat girl, anyway.

The whole ambiance surrounding this guy was one that Chase hadn't seen in a-- wait, had Chase _ever_ seen it? No, he hadn't. But damn if he didn't like it.

He blinked when the screen showed the building exploding, and the mystery villain flying away with _the_ most badass cackle he'd ever heard.

_Hot damn,_ he thought. _This guy's fuckin' Badass on a stick!_


	2. We Met?

_**What if...**_

_**... we met?**_

_**There lies a shadow,**_

_**Doubt and deception**_

_**Over my heart.**_

_**It burns,**_

_**It aches,**_

_**It throbs,**_

_**It begs.**_

_**To be held.**_

_**To be eased.**_

_**To be loved**_

_**Once more.**_

_**Lift the shadow,**_

_**End this ache,**_

_**Lead my way**_

_**To liberation.**_

_**What if...**_

_**... we met?**_

/|/|/|/|/|

Chase snapped from his trance when his phone hummed to life in his hand. He looked down and grumbled a few inaudible swears as he answered it again.

"What, Fur-face?"

"You just hung up on me, that's what!" Ashley's voice hissed.

Chase smirked. "Must've slipped a finger. You know who that guy is?"

"Not really, but I've seen him before."

"Where!?" The teen asked a bit too eagerly, and cursed himself for it.

Ashley heard it, too, and sneered. "Why _should_ I tell?"

"I'll steal Fuzzy," he countered flatly.

He could hear her laughing on the other end. "You can't steal my little Fuzzy! He'll rip you to shreds!"

"Unless I know where his soft spot is."

"Pfffft! You don't know where--"

"Right ear, just behind his skull."

Silence.

Chase smirked. Oh, how he loved pushing people's buttons. "And he'll shove his head into it, too. With that purr of his that sounds like an owl--"

"Okay, look! I was spending the summer in New York a few years ago and saw his picture in the paper once; happy?"

"What was the article about?"

"I don't remember! It was years ago!"

"I think Num-Nums would really like to meet Rocky--"

"There was some ancient artifact stolen from a history museum! This really dangerous criminal mafia; they call themselves 'The New Generation', or something. I think that guy was the head of it all."

Chase fell silent, mulling over the information thoroughly.

"... Chase? You still there?"

"Your cats live to see another day of hair-balls and pink tutus."

He hung up.

Quickly, he switched off the TV, jumped off the couch, and made a beeline through the house, past his staggering 'family' room of lizards and snakes, to his computer room.

He _had_ to find that article.

I*~*I-I*~*I

Being a criminal mastermind was never easy.

Jack had known this from the beginning, when The New Generation had been nothing more than a band of sticky-fingered teens looking for some extra cash or drugs. He knew there was always a risk with stealing, and his mafia members would have to become living shadows no less to counter these risks.

Those that joined had to learn all their skills from the Sachems. The select few 'gifted' thieves in his band, Spicer took under his wing and trained personally. Learning from Jack was a rigorous, pain-staking experience, but it was also an extreme honor. Every single one of Jack's understudies, once they had perfected their training, became Klepto-Gales; ninja-like thieves who only took orders from the Leader.

Jack Spicer, twenty-five and in the peak of health, was a deadly mastermind. His body was a weapon, faster than bullet-speed and stronger than any machine of the modern world. Anyone that survived his physical strength, however - and that number was quite small - had to test themselves against his _mind._

Spicer's mind was a vicious, deadly predator on its own. It could out-think any globally classified supercomputer and world renowned scientist in mere milliseconds. It could flawlessly craft machines of impossible abilities; machines that would have even the most accomplished technological engineers scratching their heads. Mechanical fantasies like fully functional robotic limbs, human-like AI, hover boards that used energy pulse-waves instead of air-jet propulsion, and even printers that could print physical 3-D objects like pens, guns, and organs; these things were old news to Jack Spicer. He had already invented them.

Spicer could stand on a street, facing a man pointing a gun at him. In seconds, Jack could calculate everything he needed to know:

The distance between himself and the man; the man's height, age, weight, and physical strength; the gun's exact make and model; the size, metal, and gunpowder in each bullet; how fast each bullet would travel when fired; the muscle flex in the arm and finger that would tell when he was going to fire; by the gunman's arm steadiness, his accuracy; and what his surroundings could offer him to dodge, or deflect, depending on the distance.

Only to name a few.

Jack's quick wits and astoundingly quicker mind had saved his life many a frequent time. It had also saved him and his mafia members from getting cornered and captured like wild animals by government troops. While some of his grunts didn't like admitting it, their boss's mind never failed to come through.

Jack Spicer had only been wrong once. The men who had been there to see it would never forget it for the rest of their lives, no matter how hard they tried.

Yes, life as a criminal mastermind was Hell on Earth.

Jack's home was hidden from the world, so much so that even the occasional _courtesan_ never saw his bed's silken black sheets. No, Jack couldn't afford to let anyone into his home. Should any report his whereabouts to the government, he'd be finished. And he couldn't have that.

Still, if this crimson and pitch underground mansion was Hell, then Jack felt no shame for his sins.

The criminal lord sat in a black, leather, rolling chair, in front of his own hand-designed computers. He was scouring the Internet - under a hidden connection, of course - for information on his next big steal. That ancient bow was a beauty, and it looked marvelous in his Living Room, over the fireplace. What had those insipid children called it? 'The Aerial Arrow'? Whatever idiocy they had been up to, he was glad they had retreated so easily.

The only question now was where his next little prize awaited him.

As he scoured the pages on reptilian habitats and species, he kept the picture of the creature firmly fixed in his photographic memory. He was looking for information on a certain species of python. It was a species previously believed to be extinct, but recent studies indicated that a precious few members might still be alive somewhere in the world.

After stealthily hacking into the government's scientific mainframe, Jack had been able to find the python's base DNA code and wired his Global Bio-Trackers to target the locations of any matches on the planet.

That had been two weeks ago.

The machine beeped just then, indicating that the global bio-scan was complete. Right on time, too. Jack, pleased and slightly eager, opened the program and watched as the target circle zoomed in on the only match it had found.

I*~*I-I*~*I

Chase, after finding and printing out the article, strode back into his reptilian keep feeling quite accomplished.

He gazed at his friends, sleeping and fidgeting in their glass cages. They must be hungry.

The teen clapped his hands sharply, catching the reptiles' attention. They scrambled to the corners closest to their master, ready for their food. They knew what the clapping meant.

Chase couldn't help snickering at the eagerness in their beady black eyes. It just never got old!

"Lunch time, mi amigos!" He announced, stepping up to two of his favorite cobras' cage.

Chase kneeled down and lightly traced a line with his finger across the glass. The two brown and green cobras watched his finger intently and followed it, but with a friendly fascination rather than predatory hunger.

Chase smirked. "Okay you two, time to eat."

The Chinese youth slid the top off the cage and reached both hands in. The brother cobras each took an arm and shimmied up and around their master's shoulders.

Chase got back onto his knees and reached under the cage for the air-tight box of food. The moment he popped the top, the smell of dead mice and birds rushed up and assaulted his senses. His nose wrinkled slightly, but he was used to it by now.

Chase grabbed two hefty-looking mice by the tails and held them away from his body. The cobras recognized the goal, and easily slid back along his arms to retrieve their meal.

"There you go... Rocky; Rick. Enjoy the rat-atouille."

Chase returned the brothers to their cage, and went on to feed the rest of his family. He never really thought of reptiles as pets. Lizards, turtles, snakes, - especially snakes - were not creatures you could control. They were the rulers of their land, and each carried a certain grace in their movements. A snake slithering along a wet rock quietly, dangerously, watching its prey like a hawk, never moving or faltering once. Then, a flash of lightning and fangs that speared and ensnared its prey without mercy; poisoning it, draining it, suffocating it, until all life was gone. It was a deadly beauty, and that's what fascinated Chase.

Young loved the snakes, and treated them with all the respect they deserved. They weren't pets, but his friends and family. He loved them and protected them because they, unlike his parents, were always there for him and loved him without an ounce of prejudice.

Lowering Ka, his first snake, - and named at a young age after seeing "The Jungle Book" - back into her cage, Chase closed the lid, sighed, and decided that he, too, could use some lunch.

I*~*I-I*~*I

"Computer, dispatch a Spyder. I want to see what's inside that mansion."

_"Right away, Master Jack,"_ a female voice robotically replied, and the screen flashed to life as the little mechanical spy camera was released onto the territory.

Jack stood up and stretched smoothly. He ran his fingers through his newly-cut hair, realizing that he hadn't slept in a few days. Very unwise.

"I'm going to get some sleep. Record as much of the mansion as possible, and find out anything you can on the building. I want dates, owners, and structural blueprints."

_"Yes, sir. Sleep well,"_ the computer replied.

Jack turned to leave the Computer room and, swerving mindlessly down a few long corridors, found his bedroom. Behind the black oak door was a pitch-black king-sized bed with blood crimson pillows and a light ivory green canopy draped from the ceiling around his bed. While red and black were his signature colors, he liked the subtle contrast.

The albino man stretched again, yawned, and stepped towards his bed. He stripped off his clothes as he moved, letting his little hand robots roll out of the wall and pick up after him. God, was he tired. Those silk sheets were looking really friendly right about now.

Gracelessly, Jack _fwumped_ onto the dark smoothness, managed to pull the covers over himself, and was out before the minute was up.

I*~*I-I*~*I

Chase hated having to pick favorites, but Taijitu really stole the show.

The python was like a sister to him, almost. When he first found her she had never once bitten him, never tried to hide from him, and never tried to escape. Chase had never been able to find the heart to put her in a cage. She ate when he ate, exercised when he exercised, and even slept by his head at night. When he talked, Taijitu listened and seemed to understand. When he was angry she'd snap at the air, sharing his fury. When he was miserable, Taijitu draped herself over his shoulders and tickled his face with her tail in a comforting hug.

Now, the black and white python was coiled up on the dining table, watching Chase eat a delicious grilled cheese sandwich. He was holding half with one hand and stroking her chin with the other.

"Y'know, Tai," He spoke, "I've probably said this five million times over, but you have the most _beautiful_ design I've ever seen on a snake."

She closed her eyes to better feel his stroking, and licked his hand. She was almost _purring._

"I've seen pitch-black snakes, and I've seen pure white snakes, but you must be the only snake with scales both purely black _and_ white. Black and white, _and_ in a curl-hook pattern. I didn't even think snakes came in that design."

He took another bite of grilled cheese, some gooeyness dripping on his chin. Chase's hand left petting Taijitu to grab a napkin.

"That's why I named you 'Taijitu', you know; the sharp contrast and swirl pattern almost looks like the Yin-Yang. You truly are a beautiful snake."

She opened her eyes, and Chase could've sworn she smiled at him. She did that a lot.

But whatever had been there suddenly fell away and Taijitu reared her head up towards the Reptile's room with a suspicious look. She was flicking her tongue, meaning she had 'tasted' a noise.

Chase paused, apprehensive. "Something wrong, Tai?"

The serpent slunk down from the table and moved across the floor towards the room in question.

Chase put down his lunch and quickly made to catch up with his friend. She never acted this way; something wasn't right.

As the teen swerved through the house and turned the corner into the Reptile's room, Taijitu lunged across the floor and whipped her fangs at some sort of cat-sized spidery machine. When Taijitu entered it had seen the danger and tried to flee, but the snake was far too fast for it.

Tai latched onto the foreign critter with predatory strength, but the robot wasn't going to go quietly. It struggled and pulled while Tai held on for all she was worth, jerking it around and keeping it from escaping, until finally she managed to wind herself around the metallic spider in a vice-like bind, and crushed it.

The little machine snapped and crunched under the organic creature's muscle, and quickly died.

Chase, who had been watching the whole fiasco from the doorway, could only blink. Taijitu had been able to sense that thing all the way from the kitchen, and then killed it! It was... scary... but it was good to know that she was on his side.

Taijitu dragged the broken robot over to her master's feet and released it. Chase assumed that she wanted him to _see_ the creature that had somehow gotten into the mansion.

Hesitantly, still a bit stunned by the war his friend had fought for him, Chase kneeled down and examined the thing.

Through the small flashing sparks of frayed wiring, Young could tell it was some kind of robotic spider. Adding the lens on the body, it was probably some kind of spy-camera. Chase picked up the malformed spider and searched it for a logo of some kind, but there was none to be found. It must've been removed, or the robot was home-made.

Who would build a spy camera to spy on _him?_

I*~*I-I*~*I

When Jack had fully recharged, it was about 11:28 at night. Considering he'd turned in at about 3:10 in the afternoon, he'd been out for a while.

But that was fine; night was the best time for crime.

Jack may not have been a morning person - or in this case, a night person - but he knew how to wake himself up. Spicer did a few quick stretches and moved through the corridors to the kitchen, where the decaf french vanilla coffee was already done brewing.

He grabbed the steaming mug from the cafe machine as he walked by, knowing already what he needed to do first.

He walked right into the computers' room, settled down with a quick sip, and hit a key that brought up the gathered information.

Jack examined the blueprints long enough to store them in his memory, skimmed the history, and then checked the recorded feed.

Apparently, his little Spyder hadn't gotten as far into the house as it should have. It recorded a bit of the basement, until it had found a room full of caged reptiles. After examining each one the Spyder made to leave the room, but was confronted by a loose snake and its rather young keeper.

Jack wasn't surprised that the snake attacked. He _was_ surprised when, after a bit of rough-housing, the feed went to static. His Spyders had taken _shells_ stronger than that; how could a simple python destroy one of his spies so easily?

Then, Jack noticed the unusual coloring on the snake.

The unusual, very _familiar_ coloring.

The thief master immediately downed the entire mug and buzzed off to gather his gear. There was no time to call up one of the Generation teams; he had to act _now._

That teenager had seen the camera. If he tried to flee, Jack could lose that snake's trail and have to search for it all over again. Jack refused to let that happen.

If he was going to get that beautiful snake, he would have to steal it now.

I*~*I-I*~*I

Chase hadn't been able to fall asleep easily after discovering that someone had been watching him. But Taijitu, bless her caring snake-heart, put his mind at ease just by being by his side.

It was when he woke in the dead of night to Tai firmly squeezing his head that he got _really_ scared.

Once he faded into consciousness, she slithered down and off the bed with a fervor Chase had never seen before. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and came into focus just long enough to watch Taijitu's tail vanish out the door.

A sense of panic flooded over him. He leapt from the bed, feeling his formerly-relaxed muscles object to the sudden movement and not caring. If his family was in trouble, there would be Hell to pay.

Taijitu slunk like a phantom through the halls and rooms, and Chase followed her without hesitation. Then, she led Chase into the Reptiles' room.

Where he found himself face-to-face with the very man that had blown up his school.

*~*

Silence.

Stillness.

Nothing but two hearts beating against their ribs like mad prisoners.

Chase didn't know _what_ to think. This was the man that _blew up the school._ The man that, just hours before, had been the coolest guy in the cosmos to him.

Now, seeing him with the man's hands frozen on one of the lizard's cages, Chase didn't give two shits who he was.

_His family was in danger and he'd be __**damned**__ if he was going to stand around and do nothing!!_

Fury as his weapon, Chase charged and threw himself at the thief. The man stepped aside, grabbed Chase's arm in mid-flight, and easily flicked him against the wall, _hard._

Young yelped when his spine collided with the unyielding metal and groaned in fierce pain when he felt something shift that shouldn't have. Shock and paralyzing pain ensnared his senses as he sank weakly to the floor, curling around himself.

Through the haziness, Chase looked to the side and saw the guy go for Taijitu. To his horror, he scooped her up and slipped her into a fabric bag, not even flinching at the sharp bites she dealt to his hands.

_That_ crossed the line.

But Chase didn't get the chance to attack again because the man turned to him again, flashed a devious smirk that _God_ he hated how awesome it looked, walked to him, and knelt down to look him right in the eye.

Chase threw him the nastiest look he could, which only made him laugh.

"Sorry, kid, but I can't have a hot-head like you keeping me from my prize."

Then, he shoved a cloth over Chase's mouth and nose. Chase knew what it was instantly and tried to stop his instinctive gasp, but it was too late.

Colors swirled in his vision as the fumes took hold. His entire world began spinning like a top.

Then...

"Sorry, kid..."

Nothing.

*~*

When the teenagers eyes rolled back and his head slumped over, Jack stuffed the drugged rag back into one of his belt compartments, then stood, gathered his struggling little reward, and made for the door to leave. This had been a lot easier than Jack had first thought it would be.

The victorious thief hauled the squirming bundle up into his arms, strode up the stairs to the main hallway, approached the front door...

... and stopped.

His photographic memory was acting up. It was a page he'd pulled up before leaving on the past owners of the house. The page stated that the last owners had been the Young family.

It also said that the Youngs had moved to America about two years ago.

This mansion was supposed to be empty.

Jack had seen pictures of the Youngs before; they owned a popular reptile breeding company. They had never once mentioned having children... but that kid was a spitting image of Mr. Young. Then again, the Youngs wouldn't make good parents at all, since they were both greedy drunks and notorious liars. They were just the kind of people Jack would enjoy doing business with.

Were they also the kind of people to leave their unwanted son behind, alone, halfway across the globe?

"Hmm..."

He deduced from the given facts that the Youngs had probably told their kid they had to go out of the country for a few business meetings or something, lying so that the hot-head would neither panic nor protest, and the teen naturally understood. Then, the couple high-tailed it to New York City and left their mistake far behind them.

Jack Spicer was a thief, but he wasn't heartless; he had morals.

That didn't mean he was giving the snake back - oh, _Hell_ no - but he couldn't just leave this kid here. Jack knew all too well what happened to the mind if it was raised without a parent's love.

And at that moment Jack Spicer made a decision that, had it been any other time, he would have labeled as the epitome of asinine.

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Could We

**Could we be more?**

**So long,**

**I have been alone,**

**Unable to trust,**

**Unable to love,**

**Only to doubt;**

**Deceiving liars.**

**I have longed to know**

**Another.**

**Longed to hold**

**A broken soul**

**And put it back together.**

**Could we...**

**... be more?**

/|/|/|/|/|/|

_..._

_........_

_............_

_...... blackness..._

_......._

_.........._

_... so tired......_

_..... can't move......_

_..........._

_......._

_...... movement......_

_... someone's carrying me......_

_..........._

_..... where am I going......_

_... who's holding me......_

_............_

_..................._

_..............._

_........................_

_...................................._

_....... soft......._

_......... smooth......._

_....... fluffy......._

_............... a bed........._

_.............._

_........... not my bed........_

_............. not my bed......_

_.................not my bed..._

_............. that's bad........._

_......... where am I........_

_................_

_........ warm......_

_............... cozy......._

_...... covers........._

_............. not my bed......_

_........ better than my bed......_

_................_

_..........._

_............. why am I here......._

_..... where's my family......_

_...... are they okay........_

_..............._

_........._

_....._

_........._

_................_

_..................._

_........................_

_...................................... where's Taijitu.........._

I*~*I-I*~*I

Very slowly, very groggily, Chase hazed back into consciousness.

He grunted, shifted so he could rub his eyes and blinked carefully. The light coming through the windows made him wince, but he adjusted quickly—

Wait... his room didn't have windows.

Chase forced his eyes to adjust faster and soon discovered that apparently neither did _this_ room. There were fluorescent lights bent into rectangular swerves on each side of the bed with blinds draped over them, meant to _resemble_ windows.

He then remembered what happened. Still quite a bit drowsy from remnants of the inhalant, Chase examined the foreign room.

It wasn't too big, but it was very decorative. The bed he sat in was slightly bigger than a double, its chartreuse, coral, and goldenrod colors swirled on the comforter. The headboard was a deep wooden goldenrod, with extravagant Chinese dragons carved in. The walls were olive with utterly exquisite paintings hanging.

It was magnificent... and freaky.

Chase pushed the covers off himself and cautiously slid from the bed. He wobbled slightly, remnants of the inhalant no doubt, but he managed. He then trod to the door and opened it — he was surprised that it was unlocked. The youth _needed_ to find the man who brought him here.

When he left the room, he found himself in a dark, narrow, maroon hallway with several doors on each side. Chase didn't dare test any of them, far too iffy about what might be waiting on the other side.

He reached the end of the hallway and turned the corner where the left wall opened into a small, bright kitchen. In front of the stove, cooking what looked like french toast, was the thief.

Chase inhaled sharply. He hadn't meant to.

The man peered over his shoulder, met Chase's cold stare, and smiled despite it.

"Ah! Morning, kid!" he announced and returned his attention to the meal. "Perfect timing, too; I was just about to send a robot to wake you."

"Where's Taijitu?"

It was a cold, firm, and constrained order.

Jack sighed.

"Relax; your snake's perfectly fine. I promise," he assured.

"Where _is_ she?"

Spicer turned off the stove and slid the french toast onto a plate. Then, he turned to give Chase his undivided attention.

"Listen, kid. I know you're pissed at me for doing what I did; I understand that. However, believe me when I say your snake is in good company, here. I don't plan on selling her or shipping her off anywhere, if that's what you're worried about. I solemnly swear, I'm not going to hurt her in any way, shape, or form."

"You damn well _better_ not!" Chase burst, nearly at his breaking point. "Taijitu's my _family_ and if you even _think_ about hurting her, I'll—"

"_You'll do nothing._" Jack cut him off with an icy glare that sent goose-chills down Chase's spine. He fell silent.

Jack continued. "Perhaps it's escaped your notice, but you're on _my_ turf, now. I make the rules; _I_ call the shots. I stole your snake, and I'm not sorry about it. I don't _want_ to hurt her and I don't _plan_ to, but if you can't show some decency and _quit while your ahead,_ then I _will_ hurt her — and you'll get to watch."

Chase balked. His fleeting instincts raged and wanted to jump at him again for threatening something like that, but he'd learned from what happened last time.

Jack examined the teen closely, seeing the flicker of fury subside under his self-control, and nodded his thanks.

His tone softened again. The tech genius seated himself at the round table with his plate and a steaming coffee mug. He motioned to the chair across from him.

Chase hesitated.

Jack eyed the youth as he sipped his decaf, and raised an eyebrow.

Young suddenly came to the realization that this thief was trying to be _hospitable._ Chase was bitching at him even after he'd sworn Taijitu was safe.

He seated himself across from the man, but still felt uncomfortable. He always got a little tense in places he was unfamiliar with.

"Where... exactly am I?"

"This," he stated, "would be my not-so-humble abode."

Chase snickered, but kept his eyes averted. "I noticed."

Jack paused, considering this young man for a long while. "... What's your name, kid?"

"... Chase. Chase Young. You?"

"Jack Spicer; professional thief, spy, and proud founder and leader of the most successful underground mafia on the globe, The New Generation."

Chase finally looked at Jack, eyes wide. "So, you really _do_ run a mafia."

Jack nodded. "I believe I just said that, yeah."

"Then, what do you want with Taijitu? She's just a snake."

Jack sighed again, albeit smirking, and put down his mug to massage the bridge of his nose. "How to explain... well, first off, she's _not_ 'just a snake'. Ever noticed just how definite her coloring pattern is?"

"Well, yeah... but—"

"She's a species believed to be extinct."

Chase stared at him.

With no reply, he continued. "I'm not quite sure how you got ahold of her, but those are the facts," he shrugged.

"... You said you weren't selling her, or giving her away..."

"I did."

"So... what, you just... want her for the sake of _having_ her?"

Jack smirked. "Yup, pretty much."

Chase blinked.

Jack chuckled, and started eating his breakfast. "You've obviously heard of me, based on the _confirmation_ of my mafia, so this may not be news: I am a greedy bastard. If there's one thing I like more than unique and valuable things, it's _owning_ unique and valuable things. And if there's anything I enjoy _more_ than owning unique and valuable things, it would be _stealing_ said things. Therefore, even if 'Taijitu', as you call her, had been in some zoo in Brazil, I still would've stolen her. I assure you, Chase, it was nothing personal."

He scoffed. "I didn't doubt that, unless _you_ somehow knew me; that would be kinda creepy."

Jack's smirk became a cunning cheshire grin. "Well, let's see... Judging by your honorable attitude towards your 'family' of reptiles, you have a conscience or some other ethical code of the like. The papers lying all over your house lead me to guess that even without your parents, you still go to school. Your headstrong attitude, however, suggests that you don't follow the rules to a T. The way you came at me last night was no spontaneous act of aggression, either; you take martial arts, or took it some time in the past."

Jack paused to examine a dumbfounded youth, and chuckled.

"You..." Chase blinked.

Spicer scarfed a chunk of french toast, and tapped a free finger against his temple. "This is the most powerful weapon any living creature can have."

While Chase was still gaping and trying to sort the jumble out in his own mind, Jack reached back and grabbed a previously invisible plate of waffles from the countertop and placed it in front of the teen.

At a confused glance, Jack explained, "One of the nastier side-effects of that drug I forced on you is vomiting, which means that right now you're running on empty."

Chase was about to say otherwise when his stomach chose to intervene rather loudly. He cringed and blushed.

Jack laughed and scarfed down the last of his french toast. "Eat up, kid. You'll need the energy."

Having the last word, the genius stood and made to leave the kitchen.

Chase blinked. "Uh– bu– Wait! Jack, I have more questions—!"

"All in due time, _mi amigo joven._" He shouted from the next room, "All in due time."

Young had a mind to run after him for that remark, but his stomach demanded nourishment at once. Grudgingly, he grabbed his fork and jabbed a waffle.

"'M not that young..."

I*~*I-I*~*I

Jack's Training room was roughly the size of two or three basketball courts. It wasn't anything flashy — every inch was a natural, dusty-looking, metallic gray — but it was far from mundane.

The genius stood in the very center of the vast room, surrounded by a faint, wide circle that indicated separated metal. He was in comfortable clothes, also gray, and in a standing, meditative stance.

_Rearing Snake,_ he thought.

Jack breathed deeply, and shifted his weight onto his left leg. He crouched low to the ground, pushed his right leg far behind him without any weight, and kept his torso centered and arched. His left arm was bent horizontally as a visual elbow support, and his right elbow, over the left hand, bent back up to his shoulder with his hand as focused as his eyes. Jack held the stance for a whole minute, until he felt the aching warmth radiate from his thigh.

_Hissing Crocodile._

He twisted his weight-bearing ankle into a sharp pivot. Jack was facing the opposite wall now, his right leg holding his entire weight and bent even lower than before. His torso twisted left so his right arm could reach forward and up. His fingers were curled, tense, as if brandishing claws — or teeth. His other arm extended behind him, elegantly parallel with his leg.

He did look like a hissing crocodile, if not as dangerous as one.

For the next half-hour, Spicer performed several more yoga and tai chi positions. Then, once the stretching was done, he straightened.

"Engage 'Body Focus' Training; Minefield."

The floor around him shifted down and out of sight, and was promptly replaced with a floor packed with what appeared to be land mines.

Jack cracked his knuckles and breathed, "Float like a butterfly, sting like a mother."

He jumped. Hand spring, spinal twist, pivot bound, soaring flip.

And he landed in the heart of the mines. His tiger stance was low, calm, and ready. Not a single mine had been disturbed.

He practiced his gymnastics for another fifteen minutes in the cold room, leaping and twisting as if the mines didn't even exist. Even when his side pulled into a tight knot and it hurt him to breathe, he kept going. Jack knew he'd need these skills the most when his body was bleeding and nearly dead; he couldn't let the pain stop him.

From the corner of the room, a pair of eyes followed Jack's every move. They were fascinated; was it possible for such a dirty criminal to move with such grace?

Jack landed just outside of the minefield and went still. He held a low mountain stance and stared straight ahead for a good and long time. Jack's eyes narrowed.

"A picture would last longer."

"Well sorry, I just..."

"Can't believe your eyes?" Jack finished.

"... er..."

He straightened and faced the youth. "'Criminal' doesn't mean 'clumsy'."

"I know _that,_ I've just... never seen anyone move so smoothly."

Jack smirked as his ego was stroked. Then he looked up.

"Engage 'Mind Focus' Training; Cameras."

The minefield shifted back down, and a new terrain was brought up. Here, there were various pieces of white furniture placed with and near their common couples, but scattered widely. It was like a blinding furniture store.

Chase also didn't miss the security cameras that spawned from the walls.

When he turned back to ask Jack was already crouching behind a sofa, as still as death. His eyes were deep and calm, completely aware of the world around him. The raw focus in this man's eyes scared Chase, and thrilled him to the core.

Jack's muscles moved in a fluid grace, keeping him just out of each camera's reach. He would distract, then dart, creep, and duck. His control was perfect, unlike anything Chase had ever seen before, which was saying a lot considering how many masters Chase had had.

Jack pulled one particularly ballsy move; after a small distraction from under a coffee table (oh, and how limber the man was!), he slid like quicksilver from under the table and leapt _over_ the sofa. The tuck-and-roll landing barely made a sound. Hasty but calm, Spicer managed to slide under a kitchen table just before the cameras could catch him.

Chase's brows flew up. Jack smirked to himself.

The exercise ended too soon for Young. The cameras retracted, and the furniture descended. The room was, once again, an empty warehouse.

Jack approached his captive. "Y'know kid, I expected you to be poking all around my house trying to find a way out. Any reason to why I'm wrong?"

Chase blinked, his expression turning a bit downcast. "Well, I mean I _would_ try getting out.... but....." He shrugged, unable to meet Jack's gaze. "There's no real point."

Spicer raised an eyebrow, not entirely surprised, and leaned against the cold wall. "No point, eh?"

"Nope. School was never my thing; I'm more of a physical guy. My reptiles are my only true family, too."

"How so, kid?"

Chase finally managed to look up at the older man. "Didn't you notice? I was the only one home when you nabbed me and Taijitu. My folks abandoned me with that goddamned mansion years ago. No teary goodbyes, no foster parents; just 'goodbye forever!' and out they went. If you killed me here, no one would ever know I was gone. No one but my reptiles would miss me, either."

Jack was thunderstruck by all this. Chase _knew_ his parents had bailed; knew they were never coming back. Chase knew that his parents didn't care about him. _If you killed me here, no one would ever know I was gone._

Did Chase... not care anymore?

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


End file.
